


every ribbon you used (to tie yourself to me)

by rhodee



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crack, Drunken Kissing, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark at MIT, Jealousy, M/M, MIT Era, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), POV James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Sharing a Bed, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, because those always have angst potential, honestly all they do is kiss and pine, if you squint because i have horrible humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27763012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhodee/pseuds/rhodee
Summary: “Sorry,” Tony said softly. And when James didn’t respond, too caught up in the beating of his heart and the way his skin felt on fire wherever Tony's skin met his, Tony started to explain. Desperate, almost. “We were talking about kissing, and you were–”“Yeah,” James said, cutting Tony off. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, tasting the alcohol that Tony’s mouth left behind. “Don’t worry about it.”
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Tony Stark
Comments: 17
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello, i am back with another wip and a lorde lyric in my title 👀  
> this has been in my drafts since october 14 under the title "drunky tony" but inspiration stuck overnight and i completed chapter one _and_ im already halfway through chapter two so, rest assured, updates will be quick! :D  
> enjoy some much needed mit era pining because we can never have enough of those, heh.

There were two sharp knocks on the door, and James knows in that instant it’s not Tony, because for one, Tony _never_ knocked, and two, even if he _did_ , it was after he already tried the handle. 

James threw a quick glance at the table clock – 2:23AM – before heading towards the door and throwing it open, and well– 

He wasn’t _wrong._

Tony was definitely not the one who knocked, considering William ‘Willy’ Davis from the next room over was the only thing keeping a semi-conscious Tony upright, eyes glazed over with a stupid smile on his face. Davis had an arm around Tony’s waist, palm flat against Tony’s abdomen, and had pulled Tony’s arm over and around his shoulders to support Tony’s upper body against him.

“You should probably tell ‘im to put a lid on it,” Davis said, and James realized he’d been glaring at Davis’ palm for too damn long. 

“He doesn’t listen,” James grumbled in response, already making a move to pry Tony away from the guy. He hooked an arm underneath Tony’s armpit, drawing the drunken teenager closer to him until Tony quite literally jammed his head against James’ neck. 

“Listens to you,” Davis pointed out sourly, taking a step back and tucking his hands into his jean pockets. James snorted, shooting him a _yeah right_ look before Davis spoke again, this time eyeing the way Tony was incoherently mumbling into James’ neck. “You got ‘im?” 

“Yeah, I got him.” He gave a short, appreciative nod. “Thanks.” 

“No sweat,” Davis shrugged, just a bit too strained, before heading down the corridor and to his own room. 

“Willy likes me,” Tony mumbled against James’ neck as soon as he locked the door behind them. James kept his pace steady as he guided them towards Tony’s bed, the shorter boy more or less dragging his feet across the floor which nearly made James stumble twice. 

“Yeah?” He asked, not the least bit surprised considering Davis hit on anything that moved. Tony made a soft sound of affirmation, humming against his skin. James stopped at the edge of Tony's bed; stood there for a few good seconds with Tony still clinging to him like a koala, before he sighed. “Tony. Bed.” 

“Wanted’ta blow me,” Tony continued as if James hadn’t even spoken. 

“ _Jesus–_ ” Sober Tony never had a filter, and James didn’t even know _why_ he ever expected the intoxicated version to have one. He let his arm loose from where it was around Tony, turning him just so, and Tony fell back on the bed with a soft _thump._ His seated position held only for a second before his body swayed, and Tony ended up landing on his side, face squished against his pillow. 

“Di’n’t let him,” Tony said, eyes fluttering shut and nearly slipping towards unconsciousness, but somehow _still_ committed to the topic of Davis offering fellatio. “Don’ like him.” 

James reached over to pull the blanket over Tony, letting it fall just over his chest. Tony followed the movement with the eye that wasn’t squished against the pillow before finally focusing on James hovering over him. “Like _you_.” 

To his luck, Tony was too out of it to see the strain in James’ smile when he reached out to pat his shoulder. “Go to sleep, Tones.” 

“Sleep wi’ me.” A hand came up to wrap loose fingers around James’ wrist. He stared at it, and then looked at Tony who still had one eye open.

“Not until you take me out to dinner.”

“I will,” Tony answered, which was – considering his current state of mind – a weak promise at best, but when Tony gave a small tug from where he was holding James, the taller boy easily gave in. 

The thing was, Tony had issues with personal space. He flocked towards warm bodies like a moth to a flame, which often led to wandering hands and lingering touches that ended with all of James’ hairs on end. It was, of course, natural, that as soon as James had not-so-gracefully scrambled into the twin bed, Tony had latched onto him – a leg thrown over James’ thigh with an ankle hooked around his calf, an arm around his waist, and a cold nose pressed against the bare skin of his collarbone. 

This was more or less normal for them. Except– 

“Dude,” James spoke into the dark, ten minutes later. “Are you sniffing me?” 

“Di’ you get new deodorant?” Tony asked instead, tilting his head just enough to prevent his words from being muffled. 

“Two weeks ago, yeah.” 

“Huh,” Tony said, sounding more awake as compared to before. “Smells... nice.” 

“Yeah.” 

Silence. And then Tony moved – wiggling upwards until he was nearly eye-to-eye with James. He could make out the silhouette of Tony’s head, a soft shine in his eyes from where the moonlight entered the window. 

“What do you– um, think about Willy?” Tony asked, because Willy Davis was an important subject to discuss at ass’o’clock in the morning. 

“He’s fine,” James answered shortly. “Heard he hotwired a car once.” 

Tony huffed, and their faces were close enough that James felt the warm breath against his chin. “I can hotwire a car.” 

“Yeah, I believe you.” 

“He likes me.” 

“He likes everyone.” 

“He _like_ likes me,” Tony insisted. “It’s different.” 

“That what he told you?” 

“Yeah." There was a telling pause. Tony shifted, and with their close proximity and the silence enveloping them, the movement felt tenfold. Tony was suddenly very close to him. "If he, um, wanted to kiss me, should I let him? You think?” 

James gave a one armed shrug. “If you like him, sure.” 

“Would you let him?” Tony asked, voice softer now that he had all but left an inch of space between their faces. 

“Kiss me?” James huffed out a laugh, a poor attempt to cover up the sound of his heart thumping against his ribcage. Tony was _so_ close. “God no.” 

“What if he _like_ likes you?” 

“Doesn’t mean I should be okay with–" _him kissing me,_ James nearly finished. The rest of the sentence lingered in his mind as he did the math. _What if he like likes you?_ His lips parted, closed, and then parted again. “Tony, are we– are we still talking about Davis?” 

A soft sound emitted from Tony’s throat, and James watched as Tony tilted his head ever so slightly, leaned the last inch forward, and pressed their lips together. Heat ran down James’ body from the point of contact, which somehow did nothing to soften the way his body froze in response – but Tony still hadn’t moved, lips pressed insistently against James, and James still hadn’t breathed. 

As far as first kisses with your roommate-slash-drunken best friend go, it wasn’t bad. But it wasn’t _right,_ not when Tony was–– 

He counted two seconds, and pulled away. Tony chased the warmth for a short second before realizing what the movement entailed, and stopped with an inch of space between them. There was an awful silence. 

“Sorry,” Tony said softly. And when James didn’t respond, too caught up in the beating of his heart and the way his skin felt on fire wherever Tony's skin met his, Tony started to explain. Desperate, almost. “We were talking about kissing, and you were–” 

“Yeah,” James said, cutting Tony off. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, tasting the alcohol that Tony’s mouth left behind. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Okay.” It didn’t sound like Tony believed him, going by the way the hand that was over James’ waist retreated. He suddenly felt cold all over. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” 

The next morning, James wakes up to an empty bed and the shower running. 

He’s still on the bed when Tony comes out of the bathroom twenty minutes later with wet hair and a damp shirt, muttering false promises about never drinking again. 

They don’t talk about the kiss. Tony had a habit of avoiding things like these, and James wouldn’t even have known where to start.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to [samrhodey](https://samrhodey.tumblr.com/), muah  
> thank you for letting me annoy you with all my dumb fic ideas<3
> 
> also does anyone know where i can take a class on finding consistency between the ratio of description:dialogues asking for a friend.

The night after their midterms, word spread that Davis got his hands on a decade-old bottle of whiskey, which naturally ended with a handful of them gathering in his dorm – James and Tony included. There was a degree of placidity in the air once they all settled around the dorm with their filled mugs of whiskey; the stress rolling off of them in waves after having spent nearly seven consecutive nights jamming theorems down their throat and running on a five hour average of sleep. 

Sure, James had  _ initially  _ planned to pass out for a straight twenty-four hours – dead to the world – but he couldn’t deny the fact that a few drinks would take most of the edge off. And b esides, some of his deepest slumbers were always the result of a hefty drinking session. 

Come to think of it, sitting there, sipping on his drink and welcoming the familiar sting of whiskey down his throat, James might even have admitted to being grateful for Davis pining after Tony’s attention like a lapdog – only because it was the reason  _ James  _ got invited by extension. 

The downside was that, since James and Davis operated in entirely different friend circles, they only had about two or three mutual friends – one of them, thankfully, being Davis’ roommate. Colin, who had the unfortunate luck of sharing a room with Davis, was one of the few guys that James could actually tolerate and often fell into easy conversation with. He sat down on the floor by the bed that Colin was sitting cross-legged on, getting the ball rolling as they chatted a bit about how horrible midterms went, to the last time they’d gotten drunk together. But, of course, the conversation steered towards the inevitable – to the topic of Davis, and him accidentally spending $100 on a date – and James found his attention drifting over to where Tony was pouring himself his second – or third? – drink amidst three others, sharing laughs and bumping shoulders with Davis. 

“You’d think Tony would go for someone better than  _ Willy, _ ” Colin pointed out, apparently sharing the sentiment. James smiled over the rim of his mug as he sipped his drink, raising an eyebrow at Colin. The other boy stared back. “What? He’s my roommate. It’s practically in my contract to poke fun at him.” 

James snorted, shifting his attention back to Tony. “Okay, fair.” 

––and met Tony’s eye the next second. It lasted an odd second before Tony sent him a brief, tight lipped smile and looked away, returning to the conversation around him. 

It’d been two weeks since they kissed, or rather, since _Tony_ kissed him, and the weight of it hung over them like a dark cloud – not quite overpowering, but unavoidable in the way that Tony never held eye contact for too long. His gaze often drifted to a spot over James’ shoulder whenever they talked, combined with a forced casualness so frustrating that James nearly pulled all his hair out. On multiple occasions. 

They never quite managed to talk about it, which was a feat that only got harder as midterm week approached – the pair of them balls deep in their textbooks and projects, and running on vastly different sleep schedules. 

James  _ wanted  _ to address the elephant in the room.  _ Wanted to,  _ because he didn’t know how long they – or rather,  _ he – _ could go on like this;  _ wanted to,  _ because the constant need to  _ talk-to-Tony, talk-to-Tony  _ kept nagging at him until he nearly threw his books at the wall in a fit of annoyance. He  _ needed  _ to talk to Tony, because it was  _ all he could think about,  _ and James couldn’t afford getting a bad grade over something as trivial as a  _ kiss.  _

Unfortunately, there lay the problem. 

It  _ wasn’t  _ trivial – because it was Tony _ ,  _ it had to be _ Tony,  _ of all people _ –  _ and it wasn't something he could just _pretend_ didn't happen – much like he's done with his other escapades – because it was _Tony_ ,  and it was _Tony_ with whom he'd spent nearly every waking moment with ever since they ended up as roommates. It was Tony that he found himself searching for whenever he entered a room; Tony with whom he found cuddling with during the nights they couldn't sleep; Tony, with his overly physical intimacy, that left James yearning for more, _more, more–_

But. 

Much like Tony, James was also a stubborn son of a bitch – so he shoved the elephant back into the cupboard, locked it in, and committed himself to his books. 

Davis shouted something about it ‘finally being a  _ party _ ,’ and James was brought back to the present to where two more of Davis’ friends had just entered the room, and without a minute to spare, Davis predictably came up with the idea of playing spin the bottle.

James, already lightheaded from the alcohol, muttered a string of curses under his breath that may not have been as quiet as he thought – going by the way Colin nearly choked on his drink. He had a sinking feeling about where this game was headed, and found his gaze shifting towards Tony for the third time that night as the other boy sat himself down across from James. 

“I’ll go first,” Davis volunteered as he sat right next to Tony, spinning the bottle before anyone could even get a word out.

The bottle slowed, crossing Davis, crossing Tony, moving inch by inch, until– 

It landed on James. Beside him, Colin snorted. 

James grimaced. “Yeah, you’re having fun, aren’t you?” 

“‘Course I am,” Colin answered, low enough that only James could hear. “I’m not the one getting kissed by a guy called Willy.” 

They ended up playing almost two rounds of the game before sober minds were completely lost to the whiskey – slurred words, bursts of laughter, and rapidly diminishing brain to mouth filters that were a clear sign of their intoxication. Brain to muscle filter too, because the game turned sour as soon as Davis participated out of turn, without even spinning the bottle, and pulled Tony into a kiss. 

Which was  _ fine,  _ because James knew Tony didn’t like Davis. Not in  _ that  _ way, at least. Tony even  _ said  _ so himself – sure, Tony was drunk when he said it, but the point still stands. 

Doesn’t mean that James would stay quiet at the way Davis practically pounced on Tony, because who the  _ hell  _ does Davis think he– 

And whatever James had been about to say was lost on his tongue when Tony started kissing back – eyes crinkled shut and smiling into the kiss as if nothing else could have made him happier – and James' felt his own tongue weighing down in his mouth as if made of lead. 

Tony laughed when Davis pulled back, eyes almost unintendedly flicking towards James, who was quick to look away. 

It was  _ fine.  _ Even James had his own share of drunken kisses in the past – kisses that felt just right for a fleeting moment until it wasn’t anymore, and Tony was– Tony was  _ clearly  _ drunk. Just like he was last time. It doesn’t have to  _ mean  _ anything. 

It  _ didn’t  _ mean anything. 

He downed the rest of his drink, wrinkling his nose as if it was the whiskey that had his stomach lurching. 

Soon enough, the alcohol started thrumming in his body in a steady buzz, leaving him just the right kind of lightheaded to let his tongue loose and elicit barks of laughter around the room. James was right at the crossroads of being sober and completely smashed, conscious enough to keep himself from doing things he’d regret but tipsy enough that even the smallest responses of flattery had him smiling into his cup, flushing at the attention. 

There was, unfortunately, an ugly –  _ almost sober _ – part of him that kept drawing his notice towards the space opposite him, at the way Tony and Davis seemed joined at the hip – leaning into each others space, lingering touches that lasted way too long to be accidental, and the tinted flush in Tony’s face. The pair continued to remain unaware of the conversation around them,  _ and  _ of the metaphorical daggers being sent their way, as Davis nodded enthusiastically while Tony spoke with bright eyes and wild hands. 

Someone called out James’ name, turning his attention away, and he promptly slipped back into the conversation. 

It was at least two hours past midnight when the group started to disperse, groaning about needing to catch up on sleep after the toll that midterms week had on them. They were crowded in the corridor right outside Davis and Colin’s dorm, their voices echoing all the way down the empty hallway as they tried to hush each other, only to end up snickering immediately after that. It lasted for a while until a door down the hallway opened and a head stuck out, telling them to quieten down, but in a much more colorful way. 

“Tony told me to tell you not to wait up for him,” Colin said once it was just him and James, the other boys having walked out of earshot – still shoving each other and chattering amongst themselves. 

James frowned. Tony and Davis had announced something about having to clean up the mess the other boys left behind, and James hadn’t even thought _twice_ about it since he’d spent the entire night assuring himself that Tony didn’t even  _ like  _ Davis. Tony _said_ he didn't like Davis, and regardless of their bump in the road, James had no reason to _not_ trust Tony. But Colin’s face looked pinched, like he wasn’t all too pleased with the situation either, and that could only mean– 

His heart dropped the same time that realization dawned, insides  churning  with something akin to _betrayal,_ because– Because Tony  _ said–  _

“Oh,” James said, mind drawing a blank for an appropriate response. 

“Yeah.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im just gonna say it. i did a lot of dumb things in uni and this fic is partially inspired from me being a grade a+ dumbass so what i'm saying is, this entire fic is a callout to 19/20 year old me. which was like, last year. but still

**Author's Note:**

> [i'm on tumblr as @rhodee!!](https://rhodee.tumblr.com/)


End file.
